


Sins of the Mother

by HinnyBellarkeSwan



Series: Riverdale Perspectives [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Child Abandonment, F/F, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 09:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17701412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HinnyBellarkeSwan/pseuds/HinnyBellarkeSwan
Summary: Gladys Jones leaves. Five times she turns away from her son and the one time she lets him stay.ORI hate what the show did to Gladys and JB this is how I'm dealing with it.





	Sins of the Mother

1.  
Gladys Jones couldn’t take it any longer. She had enough. Her husband wouldn’t leave the bottle, leave the Serpents for her or their kids? Fine, then she was leaving. She was no longer going to be idle, it wasn’t in her DNA to do so. She made a plan. 

She was taking her daughter and getting out of Riverdale. 

Gladys knew she couldn’t bring Jughead, he was too loyal to his father, still had hope that the man would turn his life around. He was also, through no fault of his own, the spitting image of his father when FP had been in his youth. 

So she left. 

She threw what little she could without raising suspicion in a few backpacks and stored them in the trunk of her junker car. She had enough money to get her and Jellybean to Toledo, she just needed to wait for night to fall. Her heart hurt, watching her son play with his sister. There was no doubt that her boy loved the little girl, but she still couldn’t will herself to bring him. He was a wild card she couldn’t predict and Gladys Jones had enough of wild cards. 

That night she put her baby girl to bed and for once ignored the drunk man sprawled on their bed. She leaned against the door of her children’s room, watching her sons' fingers fly across the keys in the dark, his headphones drowning out the noise. 

He caught her watching him after a moment and she gave him her best smile, no doubt as tired and worn out as she felt and moved to sit at his feet on the small bed for a moment. 

“What’s wrong mom?”  
She could see it in his eyes, pure trust. He thought she was just going to ask him to help her maneuver a drunk FP again, or help her clean the trailer a bit. It wouldn’t be the first time she had leaned too heavily on her oldest for help, but not tonight. 

“Nothing Jug.” She leaned against the wall at her boy's feet, looking at him in the dark for the last time. “Why don’t you get some sleep baby? You look exhausted. The words will still be there in the morning.” 

A rueful smile appeared on his face, “not the same ones.” But he was a good kid so he leaned over to place his computer on the ground and tugged the beanie she had made him years ago off his head. 

She surprised them both, leaning over to kiss his forehead as she had when he was younger. “Night Jug.” Her son gave her a confused but happy smile, rolled over and twenty minutes later she heard his breathing even out. 

It wasn’t unusual for Gladys to watch her children sleep, she had done it numerous times since she had brought Jughead into the world. It was peaceful to her and tonight she was taking in her boy, knowing that she was about to shatter their bond irrevocably. He would forgive her, she knew he would, but they would never again have the implicit trust that was present now. 

For fourteen years she had struggled and worked and plead, but FP hadn’t been happy, maybe he hadn’t been happy since graduation, either way, she couldn’t stay. Even if she was going to leave a piece of her heart behind in the boy that had made her a mother. 

After an hour she stood, sure her boy was sound asleep. Gladys Jones placed one final kiss to the forehead of her oldest, hefted her gangly eight-year-old into her arms and fled into the night. 

2\. 

He called her first. It had been three months since she had left him, left Riverdale, in her rearview. He called the number she had left on a sticky note in his school books but he didn’t want to talk to her, he wanted to talk to his sister. 

That was more than fair. Jellybean couldn’t understand why she hadn’t brought Jughead, she let out a happy squeal when she told her daughter that he was on the line. The kids talked until Jughead ran out of quarters for the payphone. She could only hear one side of the conversation but she hoped, she prayed, her son was okay. 

The calls became a weekly thing. Jughead slowly began to give her more information, but not much. He was working at the Twilight. He was making summer plans with Archie. There was no mention of the man she left behind, no mention of home. Then he would ask to talk to his sister and the two would chat for twenty minutes before either he ran out of quarters or she told JB to hang up the phone because she needed all the minutes she could spare. 

Her parents had said nothing, giving her the in-law suite in their basement but she could feel the silent judgment. Her folks had never liked FP but they hadn’t extended that dislike to their grandchildren. 

“Mom?” Gladys looked down into the blue eyes of the man she had given up so much for, replicated in the eyes of their daughter. “Yeah JB?” 

“When can we go home? When can Jug come?” This wasn’t the first time she had asked the question, probably wouldn’t be the last. She had done one thing right at least, she had ensured that her kids loved each other. 

“I don’t know baby.” She left it at that, unable to think what would inevitably be the truth. 

3\.   
Jughead had seemed happier than she had heard him in months when she had spoken to him two weeks ago, and then he called her in distress. She had heard the news. FP Jones had been arrested for the murder of Jason Blossom. She wasn’t sure if she believed it or not but either way it solidified her belief that she had done the right thing. 

He wanted to come and stay. She looked around, the crowded studio that she shared with JB, hardly enough to feed two, let alone a teenage boy who ate more for two? She couldn’t do it. She broke her own heart again, she said no. 

The foster care system reached out, a few days later, she was still his mother they said. She could take him in. She couldn’t. 

He stopped calling after that. JB had heard her deny the foster people, her daughter wasn’t speaking to her either. 

The media headline flashed across the tv, Riverdale, NY- Teenage boy’s killer was his father. Images of Clifford Blossom swinging from a rope in his own barn put her heart at ease. FP hadn’t done it. He was innocent. 

The phone rang hours later, and she felt hope surge within her. It was the usual time, different day but still, she had hope. It was a debt collector. Then it was the foster care people again. FP was still being charged with other misdeeds. 

She said no again, after ensuring that JB was nowhere near close enough to hear her. 

4\. 

It had been months of radio silence. She had heard that there was a serial killer at large in Riverdale, that Hiram had returned, but that is because she followed the Register’s weekly online subscription on her shitty phone. 

Things were getting better. She and JB were finally getting by. She had her GED. She was going to open a garage. Might as well do something with the skills she had, anything was better than bartending or waitressing. She was done with that life. 

Then she was woken up by her phone ringing, late one early May night. “Hello?”

“Gladys? Oh good, the number was still correct.” Her jaw dropped. “FP?” 

“Gladys, you gotta come back to Riverdale. The boy, he’s hurt, bad. The Ghoulies, its… he’s in the hospital.” 

She froze, she heard him stumbling over other words, they were clear as day, no slur. He wasn’t drunk, this wasn’t a joke. Could she do it? Go back to that shithole of a town, see her son laying in a hospital bed because she couldn’t do the right thing and put him first? 

No, she couldn’t. What if she was too late? She wasn’t sure what she said, but a moment later her phone was on the bed next to her and she was shaking, tears pouring down her face. Her boy, her baby. 

This was her fault. This was FP’s fault. Their son could die because they were affiliated with some stupid gang. 

She tossed and turned all night, her heart and mind racing. At dawn she found herself throwing money into a purse and leaving JB with her parents. She couldn’t tell them why, her parents or her daughter, in case Jug didn’t make it. 

She bought a train ticket, and a day later it was pulling into the Centerville station. She threw herself onto a bus, feet tapping anxiously. By the time she made it to Riverdale, it was once again dark, and she was running on fumes. 

She stuck to the shadows, not wanting to be caught out, and slunk into the hospital. There was an eerie feeling hanging over the town and it only thickened once she entered the hospital. 

She headed for the ICU, fear propelling her along. Fear of death, fear of anger, fear of tears, it had her moving swiftly and softly through the halls she had once wandered as a nurse’s aide. She caught sight of the waiting room as she ducked down halls. Serpents, bulldogs, teens of all ages were littering the room. 

She ignored the twinge in her gut and kept pushing forward. Then she saw it. At the end of the hall, the only dimly lit room and dark jean covered legs. She crept forward, silent. Her breath catching in her throat as she did. 

Her baby boy was covered in cuts and bruises. Tears welled up in her eyes, doubling with anger when she saw the Serpent jacket hung at the end of his bed. He was a Serpent. 

She nearly turned and stormed away right then, but then the blonde girl came into frame. JB had mentioned something about a Betty. A girl, but she had never paid to close attention, it hurt too much to do so.

There was a pretty blonde, the spitting image of Alice Smith perched in a chair and clinging to her son's hand. She was whispering, staring at her son like she could will him awake through sheer force of will. 

And my god, it was like looking through a history book. Alice Smith and FP Jones reincarnated in their children. She had known the girl in a vague sense. She had lived next door to Archie after all, and her son had been one-third of the three musketeers but she had no idea that they were dating now. 

Her husband, if she could really call him that, was passed out, slumped awkwardly in a chair, but the blonde was paying him no mind. She spoke louder like maybe he just couldn’t hear her before. 

“Come on Juggie. I need you. It was my dad Jug. I was right. I thought it was over, and then FP carried you out of those woods, god baby, how? Why? I… I can’t lose you Jug. Not now, not after everything. I love you Jug. Please wake up.” 

She could do it, take one more step and she would be at the door. She could kiss his forehead, promise him she was here now, he would be okay. She made to move, and then the other occupant of the chair woke and she froze. 

His eyes were clear, that much she could see, even from this distance. They were staring at his son, remorse and anger warring within them. He was still so easy to read. 

“Betty.” The girl jumped, head shooting up. “Sorry, Mr. Jones I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

Her husband moved, going around the bed to stand at her elbow, placing a surprisingly gentle hand on her shoulder. “You should get some rest kiddo. He will need you when he wakes up.” His voice was scratchy from disuse and grief. 

The blonde adamantly shook her head, clinging to the side of his bed tighter. FP sighed before gently loosening her grip. “At least try to rest here Betty. I would never make you go home.” The girl seemed to think about it before she gave a small nod. She adjusted herself, remaining as close to her boy as she could, and then fell asleep. 

FP leaned over their boy, murmuring something in his ear, brushed the errant curl out of his face and closed his eyes, almost as if in prayer. 

Gladys turned and walked away. Jughead had his girl and FP, he didn’t need her. 

5\. 

FP called a week later, told her the boy was home, that he was fine. He would carry scars for the rest of his life, but he was fine. 

She hung up and threw herself into the garage, into her own life. 

Another summer passed, heat giving way to rain and turning leaves. 

Jughead never called. Not even for JB. JB, who still didn’t know her brother had had a brush with death. 

+1

He was here, she heard the gate open, heard her daughter squeal. Gladys ducked out from the bay and there he was, her boy. Upright, bruises and cuts long since healed. He was tall, he towered over his sister, and the redhead awkwardly loitering behind him. 

Height didn’t matter. JB threw herself at her brother and he caught her, swinging her around like she was five, not ten. He tugged at the bandana around her head, holding her hair back, awe on his face. 

She finally took that step forward. 

Red saw her first, nudging his friend. Crystal clear blue eyes locked with her brown and for the first time since the night she left him, he was seeing her and she was seeing him. 

Her hand absently came up to cover her mouth as he let his sister go and moved slightly closer. She ached at the amount of apprehension in his eyes. He wasn’t sure they would be welcome, she could read it in him and god did that hurt. 

“Jug?” It came out like a question as he stopped in front of her a few feet still between them. “Hi, mom.” That was all it took. She had her arms around him, face tucked into his neck, a tear or two landing on the Sherpa lining of his coat. 

“Oh Jug.” 

He hugged her back, though she could feel the tension that remained. She ignored it, holding her boy close for another minute before she let him go. 

Standing in her garage, miles from the last place she had seen him and he looked even more like his father than the day she left. 

He was skinny as ever, but she could feel the muscle that hadn’t been there before. There was a confidence in his stance now that she had never seen before either. But the beanie was the same, the soft smile when his sister and Archie appeared on either side of him was still the same as it had been the day she left. 

“Hi, Mrs. Jones.” God had it been a while since anyone called her that. She gave the redhead a smile and then asked what they were doing here. 

“It’s kinda a long story but…Can we have a place to stay for a bit?”

For the first time since she decided to leave Riverdale in her rearview mirror, she didn’t hesitate, didn’t think. “Of course you can Jug.” He gave her a small smile, and just like that, her boy was under her roof once again. 

“Where’s Betty Jug?” The boy flinched, “still in Riverdale JB. Speaking of, can I borrow your phone mom? Mine’s dead.” Archie seemed to protest but one look from Jughead and he shut up. 

That was new. 

She tossed him her phone and he moved away. She trailed him with her eyes, ignoring her daughter chirping at the Andrews boy. She could just make out her son’s quiet words. 

“Hey, Betty. Please, please call me soon. I’m somewhere safe, this is a safe number. I miss you. God do I miss you. Please let me know what’s going o…” He pulled the phone away mid-word and then was frantically swiping the answer button. 

“Betty?” A pause and then a huge smile flooded her son’s face. “God is it good to hear your voice.” 

Then his eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong Betty?” Archie was listening to, she could see it. He tensed at Jug’s question. The boy himself seemed to grow taut with anger, and then he let out a small growl. Then an apology. 

“God Betts. If I would have known I woulda brought you with us. God damnnit!” He kicked at nothing but nodded along to whatever was said. He began to calm as she continued to speak. Archie placed a calming hand on his shoulder to, helping him relax. 

“Yeah, we are good. Somewhere safe.” Another pause and then a slow smug smile spread across his face. “You were always to astute for your own good. Yes, that’s where we are.” 

Then he laughed. It had been, god she didn’t even know how long since she had heard his laugh. 

“They aren’t your job Betts.” Another chuckle, “Alright, alright. Yes, of course, what kind of question is that?” 

Whatever Alice’s girl said had her sons face softening again, “I love you to Betts, call you later?” 

Then he was nodding and bidding her goodbye. Gladys’ mind was reeling. Her boy was in love. She had missed him falling in love. 

She had been right that night in the hospital. He had a new family now. FP, this girl, the Serpents. Did he need her? Would he want to let her back in? 

Suddenly she wanted it. Wanted to be in her sons' life. She hoped this sudden and surprise time together could put them back on the path to healing. Because while she may not love the man he resembles any more, she loved her boy.


End file.
